


mix well

by starkilling



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Gay Disaster Keith (Voltron), M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:34:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22774987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkilling/pseuds/starkilling
Summary: Keith would rather drive forks through both of his eyes than to listen to Lance pry over the phone right now, especially with how piss poor his timing is with calling in the first place. “No,” he cuts in with a piercing tone. “I’m trying to bake a stupid cake for Valentine’s day because Shiro deserves it and these directions are impossible.”
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64
Collections: Sheithlentines 2020





	mix well

**Author's Note:**

> here's my piece for sheithlentines 2020! 
> 
> i had @dasha_nova on twitter | @cosmofrogg on ig. hope you enjoy! this was super fun to write and a good break from writing smut 24/7.

Keith is whisking flour and eggs like the rest of his life depends on it, so much so that lumps of partially mixed ingredients are splattering on the counter space adjacent to him. He has piano music playing loudly in the background to silence his own anxiety, even though the genre is absolutely out of character for him. He hopes that listening to something he doesn’t normally will make him focus. He’s interrupted by a ping on his phone, stealing away his attention. The whisk clatters onto the counter in a messy splash of liquid, followed by a dramatic groan. He quickly wipes his hands lazily with a towel and tosses it to the side, picking up his phone without reading the caller ID.

“Hello?!” His voice comes out forced, frantic and harsh. He tries to prop the phone between his shoulder and ear to get back to work, but it’s uncoordinated at best. 

“Holy hell, man, are you alright?” It’s Lance, immediately on the defensive. “You sound like you’re stres--”

Keith would rather drive forks through both of his eyes than to listen to Lance pry over the phone right now, especially with how piss poor his timing is with calling in the first place. “No,” he cuts in with a piercing tone. “I’m trying to bake a stupid cake for Valentine’s day because Shiro deserves it and these directions are  _ impossible _ .”

He knows what the suggestion is going to be right as Lance inhales through the phone. “And no I’m  _ not  _ asking Hunk for help. He has his own things to worry about. I--” Keith has to shut his eyes to think straight before his brain begins to seep through his ears. “I just want this to be perfect. Because Shiro is always perfect for me, and if I don’t make it happen then I’m going to throw myself out the airlock on our next mission.”

Thankfully, this is more than enough explanation for Lance. “Geez, man, that’s probably the cheesiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard you say. Oddly romantic, but gross. Just put your heart into it. Allura would say the same thing. I’ll leave you to it, Keith.”

As soon as he hears the other end of the line cut, he’s tossing his phone back onto the counter. He has four hours until Shiro comes back from the Garrison base. Four hours is so much time and not enough in the same breath, at least not for how much perfection Keith is expecting out of this. But he is the Black Paladin of Voltron. A Senior Blade. A resolute man who has little experience with giving up on things. Surely he can conquer something as trivial as baking.

For some reason, though, it just feels different than the learned motions of war. Love is a battlefield he’s never set foot on until Shiro, and he wants to be an expert on the first try.

Shiro would be okay with anything, Keith knows this as he picks the whisk back up. Hell if he yanked a flower from the field outside and literally  _ threw  _ it at Shiro he’d still be thankful. That man has ample amounts of kindness, so much so that Keith’s teeth could rot straight out of his face. It’s why he’s so stupidly in love with him.

Hopelessly, stupidly in love, and he’s the worst at admitting it. 

He finishes whisking the mixture and drops the utensil into the sink, picking up the glass bowl. Two pans are set aside next to him, and he divides the batter equally into each. The oven’s already pre-heated, so it’s just a matter of throwing them in there and letting heat do its job accordingly. They get centered on the middle rack, and Keith is letting out a held breath as he shuts the door to it. He has a little while to wait for the cake to set, so he can use the time to set the table. 

Shiro mentioned wanting to make dinner, and Keith had just agreed without objection. Really, the whole cake thing is a surprise. He never hinted at it, just encouraged the idea of having a gentle night in. Just the two of them, nobody else to worry about. Within their home, their space is a space of safety, where things that take place outside don’t matter and cease to exist. This is their landing pad when everything else is too stressful, and for two people who have seen how unforgiving war truly is, it’s more that anyone could ask for.

The pantry swings open and Keith retrieves the tablecloth, removing the centerpiece of flowers they have to smooth it over the polished wood. He sets the flowers back down with care while dishes and silverware are quick to follow. Keith is so precise that he makes sure everything is perfectly centered and straight, right down to the fold in the napkins. It’s topped off with two candles on each side that emanate the scent of freshly fallen rain. He lights them right as the oven timer dings. 

Lighter forgotten on the counter, Keith crosses over to the oven to open it up. It was a suggestion from Hunk to poke the cake with a toothpick to test if it baked all the way through, so he does, relieved when it comes out clean. But that means it’s ready to frost when it cools down, and he thinks he dreads that more than anything he’s done leading up to this point. He gets chocolate frosting ready--Shiro’s favorite--and sets it next to the cooling rack for when the cake is done.

In the meantime, Keith finally has the opportunity to freshen up and take a shower, but he does so hurriedly knowing time is ticking before Shiro gets home. He blow dries the top layers of his hair and the rest goes into a long braid, cascading over his shoulder. He even goes as far as putting on some nicer clothes, which he  _ never  _ does, but definitely would to impress the love of his life. Keith forgoes looking in the mirror once he’s done; he’s never been a fan of looking at himself. He doesn’t have to, not with the way that Shiro looks at him. 

The cake has been cooled by the time he gets downstairs. Keith rolls his sleeves up and heaves in a deep breath, spreading the frosting over the top surface of the first piece, then places the second on top of the first. From here it’s just a matter of making it even, but knowing how awful he is at keeping a steady hand, he can’t help but get nervous. But he does it anyway, because that’s what Shiro deserves, and he refuses to back out.

It’s certainly not the neatest job, and there’s a few places where cake stuck to the spatula, but Keith is satisfied. He  _ has  _ to be satisfied, because the second he sets the metal down, the door is unlocking. His jaw sets and he practically catapults the spatula into the dishwasher, throwing the apron in along with it before even thinking about it. 

“Keith, I’m home,” Shiro calls as he steps into the kitchen. His breath catches and he chokes on words the moment he takes in the visual of the table, the candles, then finally Keith standing sheepishly in front of him next to a cake. Keith’s eyes are trained on the floor and he’s already blushing up to the tips of his ears, mouth twisted in a way that shows his timid mood. 

“ _ Baby _ ,” Shiro whispers, dropping his bags on the floor and nearly charging right up to Keith. He places both of his hands on either side of Keith’s cheeks, forcing their eyes to meet. “Did you bake that for us, on your own?”

Keith chews on the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, I know you wanted to cook dinner, and--” He breathes again, finding his words. “I wanted to make something special, too. I know you like yellow cake and chocolate frosting, and there was a box of mix in the pantry. I thought maybe I could do it. I know it doesn’t look perfect but--”

He’s shushed with a kiss, Shiro pressing into it so fiercely that Keith can’t doubt how much love Shiro must be feeling. “It’s perfect,” he breathes as he pulls back. “ _ You’re _ perfect, thank you so much. This is so sweet, Keith, I am so grateful for you.” 

Instead of feeling embarrassed, Keith now feels like his chest is starting to swell with pride. “I was thinking maybe after dinner we could go to the back lawn and look at the stars, too, if you want?” It comes out more like a question than a suggestion, but by the way Shiro’s face is already lighting up he knows he doesn’t have to worry about it being shot down. He’d  _ never  _ have to worry. “The Lyrids shower is a little early this year.”

“Do you think we can bring the cake with us?” Shiro chuckles, and Keith is huffing and pressing his face into Shiro’s chest. “I love you so much, starshine. Let me get started with dinner, I want to make something perfect for you, too.”

Keith wants to say that Shiro is always perfect and he doesn’t have to worry, but he knows he’d hear the same thing thrown right back at him. All he can do is smile, pressing a kiss to Shiro’s cheekbone and carrying the cake over to the table. 

Dinner is amazing. The cake is admittedly amazing, and Shiro complimenting it over and over makes Keith’s stomach do Olympic acrobatics. Despite having been with this man for many years and knowing they’ll be together for many to come, he still feels himself get the same butterflies he got when they first became close. 

When they’re laying under the stars, full of cake and homemade food, Keith gets a good look at the meteors falling from the depths of the universe. That universe never has really meant much to him, aside from the memories attached to it. The universe he cares about has him wrapped in secure arms, keeping him close and comfortable and  _ safe _ . Shiro is his galaxies, his stars, his  _ everything _ . He closes his eyes with a steady hum, burying himself in his very own universe, grounding himself with the heartbeat he hears. With Shiro, he never has to be perfect. He can be far from it, at his worst, and he’ll still be loved unconditionally. What they have is so beyond that. Keith knows he has more than he could ever ask for, and if he asked Shiro he would feel the same about Keith. He is complete. 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twitter @ starkillling! comments + kudos make my heart doki.


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